Encouraged by his desperation and dirty words, I began to ride him, slowly at first, dragging out every ounce of enjoyment, but as the thread of desire drew tighter within me, my movements became faster and more urgent.
He spurred me on with grunts and moans, curses and kisses. Pressure built and I cried out, throwing my head back.
“That’s it, baby. You have such sexy tits.”
He cupped them between his palms, kneading them and tonguing my nipples. Heat rocketed through me, and I grabbed his shoulders and pressed my lips to his in a passionate kiss as a tidal wave of pleasure slammed into me and I shuddered around him.
His cock pulsed inside me and our tongues tangled as I felt him thicken and jerk, coming with a low growl.
I sprawled on his chest, panting heavily. His cock slipped out of me. We’d need to deal with the mess in a moment, but for now, I was content to lie with my heart hammering against his, basking in an intimate moment the likes of which I’d never imagined I’d get to share with him.
Eventually, our sweat began to cool and the need to clean up outweighed the pleasantness of our embrace. I slid off him and gave myself a quick wash while he dealt with the condom and his own situation.
He joined me in the shower and my “quick wash” turned into a steamy make out session followed by another round of lovemaking.
We spent the day wrapped up in each other, heedless of the outside world. Eventually, we drifted to sleep.
If we’d known what the morning would bring, we might have slept a lot less peacefully.
EIGHTEEN
TALLY
Pounding on the bedroom door jarred me from a pleasant dream about all the things Alec liked to do with his tongue.
I sat up and brushed my hair off my face. “What’s going on?”
Beside me, Alec already had his legs off the side of the bed. He bent, snatched up a shirt and tossed it to me. “Put that on.”
I slipped the shirt over my head, self-conscious because I was well-endowed, so the fact I wasn’t wearing a bra was exceedingly obvious. I crossed my arms and hoped that whoever was bashing the door down had come to the wrong room.
I glanced at the clock. It was only 7:30 a.m. Check out wasn’t for another couple of hours. There was no reason for anyone to be hassling us.
Alec pulled on a pair of shorts and went to the door. “What?” he growled as he opened it.
Three people spilled into the room. First was Coral, her face a mess of tears and snot, a tablet clutched in her hands. Second was Mom, her expression uncharacteristically somber. In the rear, Dad entered wearing the same glower I imagined he used to make the opposition tremble in court.
Coral pushed past Alec, stumbling over one of our suitcases, and dropped onto the edge of the bed. She thrust the tablet at me. “You need to see this.”
Startled, and more than a little confused, I took the tablet from her and studied the screen. Immediately, I jolted awake. Taking up the upper two thirds of the screen was a photograph of me wrapped in Alec’s arms on the beach. We were wearing our outfits from the wedding ceremony yesterday and, if I looked carefully at the blurred out backgrounds, I thought I could make out the silhouettes of other wedding guests.
My gaze dropped to the headline beneath the photograph.
Alec Wright’s Sham Relationship.
I blinked, praying to whatever god might be listening that I’d read it wrong, but the words didn’t change.
“Oh, God,” I whimpered.
Alec reached for the tablet and took it from me.
Everyone knew the truth. Or, if they didn’t, they soon would.
What had we done?
Alec swore.
I needed to know exactly what the article said. I plucked the tablet from Alec’s grasp and scrolled down the page. My horror grew as I read more. Somehow, they knew everything—or at least, enough to humiliate us completely.
